One of Those Days
by MizJoely
Summary: In which nothing much happens on the Enterprise except for Uhura getting a bit silly and the reason why being explained at the end by Spock.


_A/N: This is one of those big, fat blasts from the past that I probably shouldn't even admit to having ever written, since it's pretty bad. However, it is also the very first Star Trek fan fic I ever wrote and had published in a zine (Robots, Rebels and Renegades), back in the mid-80s. So, for what it's worth, here it is, overly descriptive explanations and all!_

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><p><strong>"ONE OF THOSE DAYS"<strong>

Uhura yawned, as quietly as possible. True, it was a slow shift, but the Captain still wouldn't appreciate his crack bridge crew falling asleep on him. She stifled another yawn as she swivelled her chair around to look at the all-too-familiar bridge instead of her all-too-familiar communications board.

Captain Kirk was seated, as he always was, in his centrally-located command chair, looking like a king on his throne. Sulu and Chekov occupied _their _usual positions at the helm, and Scotty-as usual-was missing from the engineering console. Uhura recognized Ensign Ryan standing patiently at the board, waiting for his superior's return. Which, Uhura thought with a small smile, could take quite a while. Scotty was either on a break-which he never took unless ordered to do so-or he was down in Engineering. And if he was down in Engineering, Uhura concluded as her smile widened, he was probably lecturing some hapless ensign on What He Was Doing Wrong, Why He Was Doing It Wrong, How Long It Would Take Engineer Scott To Fix It, and How He Didn't Know WHAT They Were Teaching In Engineering School These Days, But When HE Was In School...

Scotty's lectures could continue for hours if he was in the right mood, as most of his crew had discovered to their dismay. However, their efficiency _did_ tend to improve dramatically once they'd been forced to sit through one of the Scotsman's tirades, if only to spare themselves from having to face the ordeal a second time. It had even become a sort of game, Ryan had once told Uhura, to let new, unsuspecting personnel do something Scotty was sure to pounce on. Not very nice, he admitted, but it did tend to break up the routine.

On the other hand, Uhura thought, he might just be prowling around down there, _waiting _for someone to do something wrong so he can lecture them about exactly what it is they're _doing _wrong and how when HE went to engineering school...the Chief Communications Officer felt a small headache coming on and quickly decided to drop that line of thought.

Actually, she mused tiredly, _any _thinking was really unnecessary right at the moment; after all, she could hear her board if it beeped or made any other obnoxious, annoying noises indicating a need for action on her part. Besides _that_, she had her little "ear squidget"-as Chekov called it-firmly in place, so if anyone felt like having an emergency or something, she'd be able to hear that, too, with no problems. And besides _that_, Captain Kirk looked as if _he _wanted to fall asleep, too...

"Privileges of rank," the Chief Communications Officer of the USS _Enterprise_ would have been heard to murmur, had there been anyone close enough to hear her, which there wasn't anyway, so it didn't really matter...her eyelids drooped dangerously low.

She had forgotten Spock. Not only had he heard her mumbling to herself, he had observed with growing alarm Uhura's apparent inability to keep herself awake and alert. She sat slumped in her chair, eyes half-closed and decidedly unfocused, hands folded on her lap, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. Most disturbing of all was the fact that she was still mumbling to herself. Or perhaps "grumbling" was a more accurate term, Spock thought doubtfully.

"How could I have ever complained about opening hailing frequencies?" she muttered peevishly. Spock continued to listen, fascinated, all thought of fine-tuning his computer station abandoned as the lieutenant rambled on. Usually Uhura managed to show more self-control than this, even during the quietest shifts.

She continued to speak, oblivious to the Vulcan First Officer's study. "At least opening hailing frequencies meant we were within hailing range of someone else. Mapping expeditions give work to Astrocartography while the rest of us sit on our rears, twiddle our thumbs and look for Klingons to break up the routine."

Spock raised an eyebrow as something about that statement caused Uhura to chuckle silently to herself. She glanced down at her thumbs as if just noticing them, then proceeded to twiddle them around each other experimentally. Satisfied with the motion, she pulled herself up slightly in her chair-Spock had just begun calculating how long it would take before she slid off the seat entirely and fell onto the deck-and continued the motion.

"Twiddle-Dum and Twiddle-Dee proposed to have a battle," she sang softly, her voice so low even his Vulcan hearing strained to hear it. The words turned into another soft giggle, and Spock felt a twinge of concern. He wondered briefly if the lieutenant had been indulging in alcoholic beverages before reporting for duty today. However, logic-and, though he would never admit it, instinct-reminded him that Uhura was an able and efficient officer who would not engage in such activities before or during her shift-after, perhaps, but not before then. Therefore, there had to be another explanation. As there had not been so much as a beep from the communications board in approximately 33.578 minutes, Spock concluded that the lieutenant was suffering from the same malady that appeared to be afflicting the entire bridge crew at the present moment: acute boredom.

Spock removed his eyes from their contemplation of Lieutenant Uhura-he was observing her out of concern for her condition, of course, and not for the simple aesthetic pleasure of doing so-and looked at the rest of the crew instead.

Sulu and Chekov were talking quietly together, one eye apiece on their instruments, discussing the relative merits of various Terran drinking establishments and the various females who patronized them. Ensign Ryan from Engineering-Mr. Scott still had not returned-was checking his monitors and board status for what Spock estimated as the thirteenth time since Chief Engineer Scott had decided to "pop down to Engineerin' for a moment to check on me bairns." That had been 43.549 minutes ago. Spock concluded that Scott had discovered something that required his attention, and further surmised that one or more members of the Engineering crew were currently being lectured on their perceived laxity.

As Spock finished _his _survey of the bridge crew, he noticed that everyone else merely looked sleepy, including the Captain. Even the two security guards standing on either side of the turbolift doors managed to convey the appearance of slouching at their posts while standing as stiffly as ever. Yeoman Rand yawned surreptitiously behind one hand as she gave the captain the duty roster to sign, then stood humming absently and gazing at the view screen, shifting from foot to foot while Kirk looked the report over before signing it.

Kirk glanced up at the young woman once or twice with a sleepy smile as he skimmed the report, but it was clear he couldn't muster much enthusiasm for the routine paperwork. He finally signed and surrendered the document to her, and she smiled her thanks before leaving to file the report.

Spock watched the Captain watching the Yeoman leaving the bridge while part of his mind wondered absently why it was still called paperwork, even though there was no longer any paper involved in the process. The other part of his mind continued to observe the Captain as he stretched slightly and sank a little lower in his seat. Uhura stifled another giggle as Kirk realized what he was doing and consciously straightened himself. However, Spock noted, Uhura also straightened herself, in spite of the giggle. Apparently she had finally realized that Kirk might turn around at any time and notice her own less-than-correct posture.

Uhura pushed herself upright as she started to swivel her chair around to its correct position facing the communications board, preparing to follow Ensign Ryan's example and run just one more check on her board. Unfortunately for the lieutenant, her chair chose that particular moment to assert its independence-and stopped in mid-swivel. However, just because the _chair _refused to move, that didn't mean the _lieutenant _was going to stop with it. The unexpected cessation of movement, combined with her own malaise, caused Uhura to overbalance-and she fell abruptly onto the deck.

At the unexpected noise-a dull "thud" and a muffled exclamation in a language Spock found to his surprise he was unable to identify-the entire crew's attention was riveted on Communications. A suspicious snort-of laughter?-came from the direction of the helm, and even Captain Kirk had to hide a smile behind a "rubbing-the-hand-across-the-bottom-of-the-face" gesture.

Meanwhile, Spock had risen from his own, fortunately-cooperative, chair, and proffered his hand to the lieutenant. She accepted it gratefully, allowed Spock to help pull her to her feet. As he did so, he said: "Really, Lieutenant, if you were attempting to...distract...the rest of the crew during this period of inactivity, I would have been most willing to aid you in finding a less painful method of doing so."

This statement, delivered as it was in Spock's usual unruffled deadpan, seemed to be too much for the bridge crew. They all, Kirk included, burst into laughter. Spock merely raised an eyebrow as Uhura, blushing furiously, dared them all with her eyes to say anything further. To their credit, once the laughter died down, no one made any other comments. Kirk looked as if he wanted to, but apparently thought better of the idea and prudently kept silent.

As everyone's attention returned to their own areas of business, Uhura murmured her thanks to Spock and replaced herself on her seat, first checking it suspiciously for any signs of continued obstinacy. Apparently satisfied that it had performed its good deed for the day, the chair swung innocently-and easily-to the desired position. Uhura later swore that it looked positively smug as it did so.

A few minutes later, when Spock looked up from his monitor and glanced around the bridge, he felt a twinge of real concern. He would have judged that Uhura's mishap with the chair would have caused everyone to become more alert-especially since it was so close to the end of the shift. Instead, the bridge crew looked even sleepier, if that were possible. Sulu and Chekov were no longer speaking, simply sitting at their positions and staring at the view screen as if hypnotized. Even Uhura's eyes were glazing over once more as her fingers tapped idly on the edge of her board.

Concern blossomed into full-fledged alarm when Captain Kirk plopped his head on his hand and slumped in his chair once again. Definitely atypical behavior; why hadn't he noticed it before? Spock turned to his board, his fingers moving elegantly over the buttons as his eyes gazed intently at the screens.

"Engineer Scott." Everyone started slightly as Spock's voice penetrated their personal fogs, and they turned to look at him as he continued speaking. "I am detecting a carbon monoxide leak throughout the ship. I would suggest that you correct the situation immediately."

There was dead silence for a moment, then the indignant sound of the Chief Engineer's voice rang over the communications system. "I told that lad-yes, Mr. Spock. I'll get on it immediately. And I can assure you it won't happen again."

"Thank you, Mr. Scott," Spock replied evenly. He glanced over at Uhura, who was staring at him open-mouthed, and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. She closed her mouth and transferred her confused gaze to Captain Kirk.

Unfortunately, Kirk was also gaping at Spock, and it took him a second to bring his reactions under control. "Carbon monoxide?" he asked disbelievingly. "How could that happen?"

"I am uncertain as to the mechanics of the situation," Spock replied as he swiveled his chair-successfully, Uhura noted with a small twinge of irrational resentment-to face the captain. "However, I am certain Mr. Scott will present a full report. I merely noted that something was causing an unusual lassitude that could only be partially explained by the routine nature of our current mission. Logically, there had to be another cause."

"Well, thank you, Mr. Spock," Kirk replied, blinking at the concise report. It was unlikely that they would have died from carbon monoxide poisoning-and he damn well wanted some kind of report from Scotty as to what exactly had happened to cause the rather unusual leak in the first place!-but Spock's alertness had kept any serious damage from occurring. "Thank goodness for copper-based blood," the captain remarked with a smile before turning his chair back to face the main view screen.

At last normalcy was restored to the shift. At last-at long last, Chekov was heard to remark-the shift ended. Scotty never made a reappearance, but Kirk knew he could count on his Chief Engineer to track him down and bring him the report. Ryan and the rest of the Alpha shift turned their consoles over to their replacements, and the crew filed off the bridge and onto the turbolift by ones and twos, the conversations noticeably more animated, eyes brighter and steps lighter as the effects of the poison finally began to wear off. At least it had generated something to talk about while off-duty today, which was more than could be said for the rest of the duty shift.

Uhura left with Chekov and Sulu, who invited her to join them for dinner and "maybe some fencing practice".

"Thanks," she said as they headed for the turbolift, "but I think I need a nice long shower first. Maybe I'll meet you on the rec deck later." They entered the lift, still talking.

Spock found himself watching Uhura leave as Kirk had watched Janice Rand leave, and decided that the carbon monoxide must have been affecting him as well, copper-based blood or not. He joined Kirk in the turbolift a few minutes later, accepting the captain's invitation for a "quick game of chess" after dinner.

All in all, it had been a particularly trying day.

oOo

Uhura threw herself gratefully onto her bunk and thanked Starfleet-or whoever-that officers didn't have to share cabins. She didn't feel up to talking to anyone just now; the minute "how was your shift" was asked she'd probably throw something heavy and end up in the brig on assault charges.

"You're meandering, Nyota," she chastised herself as she kicked one boot off her foot. It hit the opposite wall with a satisfying thunk and slid quietly to the floor as she shook her head, trying to clear away the lingering aftereffects of the carbon monoxide. Dr. McCoy had warned the crew that they might suffer headaches, dizziness or nausea as a result of their exposure, and she could feel a definite ache in the back of her neck, a sure sign of incipient headache.

Thud! The second boot came off as she reached for a painkiller, swallowed it and rubbed her toes gratefully. The boots fit perfectly and comfortably, and it wasn't as if she were on her feet all day, but still...there was something about wearing the same boots, day in and day out that made her toes feel cramped. Especially after a day like today, when she'd had more than enough time to catalog all her bodily aches and pains. Crisis-filled shifts were almost better. _Almost_.

Shower time, she decided, forcing herself to get up from the edge of the bunk. Enough dilly-dallying. She'd wake up once the water started hitting her. Then a nice, vigorous swim in the pool, then she'd see how she felt. Sulu would probably try to talk her into another fencing match-and Chekov would no doubt encourage her, since it would let him off the hook.

She shook her head as she padded toward the small bathroom attached to her quarters. She shed her clothing as she went, dropping her uniform down the laundry chute with an efficient motion born of long practice, then stepped into the shower stall with a contented sigh.

Even quiet days on the _Enterprise,_ she reflected as the water pelted her body, turned out to be exciting in some way.

Now, if only tomorrow would turn out to be a little _less _exciting...


End file.
